You made me a mess
by Pictureofnight
Summary: My life's never been easy, not with you in it. How could I know that you would make it worse? My life is a mess...


Hello there! I'm glad you're here, I hope you will enjoy your reading! If so, or even if not, don't hesitate to tell me about your experience!

 **Disclaimer** : do we really need it? Of course I don't own Harry Potter!

 **Warning** : The rating here is due to some language, but mostly because the relationship exposed here is not a sane one. Be careful what you read :-) And also: both Draco and Harry are **boys** , which means this is a boyxboy relationship as well. If you don't like it, don't go any further.

Also, English is not my first language; if you find any atrocity, do let me know :-) Enjoy!

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My life is a mess.

That's no big news, isn't it? It always has been. But I kinda thought… I don't know… Maybe it would be different this time? It could have been. I am not that bad a person, am I? Who can tell? We had good times, hadn't we? I thought… But… you left me a mess. Was it not worth it? Was _I_ not worth it? Not even a little? Maybe I wasn't… Worthy. Of the boy who survived. After having served… him. I tried, though. Oh, Merlin knows I tried. But he left. Quite quickly, should I say. Was I just a game to him? A revenge? Or was he scared?

Were you, Potter?

Oh, I dream and hope this could be the truth… But you're gone, now, and I know you, oh, so well. I know all of you, really. Probably more than sanity allows.

Body, face, eyes, smile.

Smell, strength, skin.

But I don't know how you felt, then. Those weeks you allowed me to have. I don't. But what I know is how I felt. How it felt to me, and it felt good, oh, so good. Those must have been the best days of my fucking life!

Language!

Who cares…?

Because it was! It fucking was! And I won't allow anyone to say otherwise! Not even you. But you won't either, will you? I don't exist for you anymore. If there's one thing I've finally understand, it's that you don't look back. Why would you? Leaving anything bad in the past, it's easier… Anything, or anyone… Why would you care, Potter? About anyone at all?

About _me_?

You cared, once… But it has never really been about me, has it? More about what I was doing…

I wish I could let you in the past, as well.

I wish I could erase my mistakes and call it a day.

I wish I could meet you again, different place, different time. Different me. Not different you. Never.

I wish you'll never change even if that means you'll never come back. Never look back…

I was a fool, I know it now. You made me a fool. I thought you cared. Why would you have started it, otherwise? But you were drunk, that first time. Drunk, and probably lost. And so was I. Drunk, lost and desperate. I needed someone, and it was you. I'm not sure what you needed, though. Distraction? That was a low-blow… More Slytherin than I thought. But the thing is, you made me care. A twisted care, as I realise. Because I see it now, and I don't reckon you were ever sober when you saw me. But I didn't care enough about that. I just cared that you were there, and that it was good, oh, so good, when you were taking me… So good. I miss your body.

I miss your lips, dry but exquisite, you tongue dancing with mine, your arms around my back, your hair ever so soft where I could run my hands.

Your bright green eyes that I could admire as much as I wanted.

Because they were never, never crossing mine.

Your nails ripping my back, your teeth biting my neck, your hands around my wrists.

You marked me, Potter. More than he ever did. In a so cruel way. Because you made me yours, and then you left. And it hurt, I didn't think I would feel that much pain again. Ever. But what else can happen when you shot a broken thing? My mind was already shattered pieces, you just added my heart to the disaster. You know what makes it worse? I was not afraid of you. I was not expecting it, not from you. I cried, Potter. I cried, when I realise you would not come back. You saw me cry, once. And you made me cry. What an achievement, eh? But even that spell you cast then did not hurt as much as your treason.

Yes, please.

Let me see you as the guilty one. It will help, somehow. After all, it's a recurrent scheme. You hurt me, you leave. You flee.

Do you know the sound blood makes when it drops into water? Do you know its smell? Its taste? Quite fascinating, really… I punched a mirror the other day, because _it_ was looking back at me. You know, the way _you_ never did. Glass is a quite peculiar material.

Shards of it can pierce the skin, and drops the blood.

 **Shards of you pierced my heart, and drops my soul.**

You make me suffer, Potter. Like nobody did before. Nobody but you, actually. Weird how some things never change… A word from you, Potter. A word back then, a word right now. Would it have make a difference?

You made me care, Potter.

Why couldn't you?

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Well, that's it... Any thoughts? Hope to see (read) you again on another text! Bye reader!

Pic'

xx


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